fixed. It hit him like a wall of bricks, because however hard he tried to act normal and ignore the situation, deep down he had no doubt he’d eventually fix it. Life without Melanie was not an option. To think that his sister, one of the most perceptive and intuitive people he knew, thought it might actually happen was unbearable.
He thought about it as he parked in front of his office. The building had always felt like a home away from home. He sprinted up the steps, eager to immerse himself in work. He’d decide what to do about Melanie later.
Even though it was Sunday, and the office wasn’t nearly empty, most of the people on his team were working in their scattered stations, and the consoling glow of computer screens and the hushed murmur of voices took away some of his misery.
Entering his large, open-concept office put an end to the beginning of feeling better. Actually, things fell apart even before he reached the door. Usually Scott worked on the main floor and used the office for the more important meetings or brainstorming sessions. Never one to separate himself from his workers, he preferred it that way. But if he were to forget Melanie, he needed the peace and solitude his office offered.
He turned the corner, ready to walk in, but paused when he heard agitated voices. One belonged to his personal assistant; another was much lower and harder to understand. There was only one way to find out what was going on. He pressed the handle and stepped in.
Teresa Brett, his personal secretary, was there, visibly flustered. The short plump woman looked at him with relief, her brown eyes round as saucers. ‘Thank God you’re here.’ She shook her head, a thousand dark-brown curls bouncing on her shoulders. ‘I was just about to call you anyway, Scott. She just won’t go away, no matter how many times I tell her you’re not here.’
For one crazy, hopeful second he thought she was talking about Melanie. Had Melanie come to make peace? But the thought died as soon as it appeared. Teresa wouldn’t mind Melanie coming over. Everyone in the office had embraced Melanie. They had proved their enthusiasm for the romance by attending the parties he had thrown in Melanie’s honor.
Scott looked around the office and noticed the other woman. She was standing in the shadow of the open door, her tall, skinny frame barely visible against the unlit backdrop. He’d never seen her before. He knew he’d have remembered her hawkish features and strong jawline, a face that made him think of a barracuda he’d seen once on a trip to the Caribbean.
‘Can I help you?’ he asked challengingly, annoyed with her silent stare. “I don’t believe we have an appointment?’
‘You don’t remember me, of course.’ Her words were slightly slurred, as if she had difficulty speaking. ‘No wonder. I’m sure I’ve changed in the last thirty years.’
‘Should I remember you?’ He stepped back and gestured toward the white armchair, inviting her in. After a brief moment of hesitation, she followed, her movements tense, and perched on the edge of the chair. Just like a bird ready to take off at any sudden movement, he thought, his curiosity growing. He didn’t remember her at all. He racked his brain, trying to come up with some plausible connection, but failed.
‘I used to look better.’ The stranger regarded him, her eyes narrowed into slits. ‘But you turned out really nice, Scott. Of course I saw you only once or twice, when you were around four. Who would have thought you’d grow into such a fine man?’
It was getting creepy. He’d heard about stalkers and unstable people with crazy imaginations, but never actually thought it could happen to him. He was successful and rich, but he thought that those types of fans were reserved for movie stars and musicians.
‘OK, before you think I am mad, I’d better tell you who I am.’ Her thin lips made the coldest smile he had ever seen. ‘Does the name Dolores Martin
He thought about it as he parked in front of his office. The building had always felt like a home away from home. He sprinted up the steps, eager to immerse himself in work. He’d decide what to do about Melanie later.
Even though it was Sunday, and the office wasn’t nearly empty, most of the people on his team were working in their scattered stations, and the consoling glow of computer screens and the hushed murmur of voices took away some of his misery.
Entering his large, open-concept office put an end to the beginning of feeling better. Actually, things fell apart even before he reached the door. Usually Scott worked on the main floor and used the office for the more important meetings or brainstorming sessions. Never one to separate himself from his workers, he preferred it that way. But if he were to forget Melanie, he needed the peace and solitude his office offered.
He turned the corner, ready to walk in, but paused when he heard agitated voices. One belonged to his personal assistant; another was much lower and harder to understand. There was only one way to find out what was going on. He pressed the handle and stepped in.
Teresa Brett, his personal secretary, was there, visibly flustered. The short plump woman looked at him with relief, her brown eyes round as saucers. ‘Thank God you’re here.’ She shook her head, a thousand dark-brown curls bouncing on her shoulders. ‘I was just about to call you anyway, Scott. She just won’t go away, no matter how many times I tell her you’re not here.’
For one crazy, hopeful second he thought she was talking about Melanie. Had Melanie come to make peace? But the thought died as soon as it appeared. Teresa wouldn’t mind Melanie coming over. Everyone in the office had embraced Melanie. They had proved their enthusiasm for the romance by attending the parties he had thrown in Melanie’s honor.
Scott looked around the office and noticed the other woman. She was standing in the shadow of the open door, her tall, skinny frame barely visible against the unlit backdrop. He’d never seen her before. He knew he’d have remembered her hawkish features and strong jawline, a face that made him think of a barracuda he’d seen once on a trip to the Caribbean.
‘Can I help you?’ he asked challengingly, annoyed with her silent stare. “I don’t believe we have an appointment?’
‘You don’t remember me, of course.’ Her words were slightly slurred, as if she had difficulty speaking. ‘No wonder. I’m sure I’ve changed in the last thirty years.’
‘Should I remember you?’ He stepped back and gestured toward the white armchair, inviting her in. After a brief moment of hesitation, she followed, her movements tense, and perched on the edge of the chair. Just like a bird ready to take off at any sudden movement, he thought, his curiosity growing. He didn’t remember her at all. He racked his brain, trying to come up with some plausible connection, but failed.
‘I used to look better.’ The stranger regarded him, her eyes narrowed into slits. ‘But you turned out really nice, Scott. Of course I saw you only once or twice, when you were around four. Who would have thought you’d grow into such a fine man?’
It was getting creepy. He’d heard about stalkers and unstable people with crazy imaginations, but never actually thought it could happen to him. He was successful and rich, but he thought that those types of fans were reserved for movie stars and musicians.
‘OK, before you think I am mad, I’d better tell you who I am.’ Her thin lips made the coldest smile he had ever seen. ‘Does the name Dolores Martin
Similar Books
